


Coming Unglued

by saraliz78



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, Family, Family Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Smallville - Freeform, clark angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 19:04:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saraliz78/pseuds/saraliz78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place immediately after Asylum. Clark angst, Jonathan and Martha comforting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Clark stood right outside the door of the Kent home, unsure whether he wanted to enter or not. If he went straight to the barn, maybe his parents would think that he was still at the Talon, just for a little while. If they thought he had stayed longer, they would be less likely to question him a lot when he did come in. He knew that his mother had meant well by convincing him to go to the Welcome Back party for Lana, but when she had seen him, looked right into his eyes, and turned away, Clark was certain that something inside of him had died. He felt numb, shocked.

"Well," he thought bitterly, "I guess 'shocked' is definitely the word of the day."

At the memory of the surprise attack while attempting to free Lex, his heart began to pound almost painfully in his chest. Why did Kryptonite have to hurt so much? Wasn't it enough that it rendered him weak and powerless? Did it have to make him sick and hurt him as well? He could still hear Lex screaming his name as the two insane meteor freaks dragged his dead weight away. Was Lex calling his name out of concern for what was happening to him, or because an incapacitated Clark could not finish freeing him?

Intense guilt gnawed at Clark until the teenager felt tears beginning to well in his eyes. He blinked them away fiercely, determined that this time, he would not go crying to his parents, he would not give them more to worry about than he already had. He felt guilty for being unable to prevent Lana's injury, for being unable to keep Lex from being taken to that institution in the first place and then failing to rescue him, for causing Pete the constant anxiety of having to keep his secret, for lying to Chloe, for being the cause of his mother's miscarriage and then causing his parents extra grief by running away. He had truly meant it when he had told his mother that he wished that he could forget the last few months of his life.

The decision whether or not to open the door was taken out of his hands when the door opened and he was suddenly face to face with his mother.

"Clark!" Martha Kent had not been expecting to see anyone at the door, and so she had jumped nearly out of her skin. She had been on her way out to the barn to see if Clark was there. Jonathan had gone into town to pick up Chinese carryout for a late dinner. It had been eight o'clock when she sent Clark to the Talon, but her mother's intuition had told her at

eight-thirty that something was amiss, and here was her proof. Her tall, handsome, respectful, intelligent son, who made her proud to be his mother daily, was standing outside the door of his own home, tears standing unshed in his eyes. Without another word, Martha wrapped her arms around her son, reaching up to push his head down to her shoulder so that she could stroke the soft, dark hair.

Clark was caught so off of his guard that he had no time to steel himself against the unexpected gentleness. The dam of determination that had kept the tears at bay burst, and he let out a muffled sob.

The sound of her child's distress brought out a fierce protectiveness in Martha Kent. She led her son to the sofa, draped a warm afghan around his shoulders, and sat beside him murmuring soft words of comfort. He leaned his head against her shoulder, his body shaking with the effort of trying to stop the sobs that shook him, and she continued to gently stroke his hair.

"Shh, shh. It's all right, baby. Let it out. You don't have to stop, not until you're ready."

It took him another few minutes to calm down enough to speak. "Mom, I - I - Lana, she ... "

When Clark sat up, Martha switched from stroking his hair to rubbing his back. Her heart ached for Clark. She knew her son, knew that there was no way that he could deserve whatever had happened to upset him so much. She and Jonathan had discussed the events of the last few months, and had agreed that Clark could use a break from Smallville, even if it was only for an extended weekend. Jonathan had been looking into a trip to a lakeside cabin owned by a friend of his from the local feed and seed. The cabin was available to rent by the weekend, and as soon as he and Martha could figure out which weekend would be best, the Kent family was going to take a vacation, even if it was a short one.

"She what, sweetie? What happened?"

Clark looked down, knowing that making contact with his mother's concerned, loving eyes would reduce him to tears again. "I went to the Talon, walked in, saw Lana, she saw me, and - and she didn't say anything or smile ... she looked right at me and turned away." Clark sniffed, still trying to regain his dignity after breaking down on his mother's shoulder. "I told you she didn't want to see me."

Martha carefully hid her anger, lest Clark believe it was directed at him. She like Lana, had always approved of Clark's interest in her. Lana was a very pretty girl, and had always seemed so unspoiled and genuinely friendly. This recent trend in Lana's behavior toward saying and doing hurtful things to Clark seemed out of character, and Martha had hoped that her talk with the girl had been helpful. It seemed now that she had done more harm than good. Inwardly, she seethed at Lana's callous disregard for her son's feelings, but out loud she said only, "I'm so sorry, Clark. I didn't know, would never have guessed this would happen."

Morosely, Clark mumbled, "I should have known better."

Troubled by her son's defeatist attitude, Martha questioned, "Why? How could you have known until you at least tried?"

He sighed miserably. "Everything is wrong. Ever since I came back from Metropolis, I feel like it's all coming unglued."

"What's coming unglued?"

"My world, my life, everything." Clark could tell from his mother's face that she was awaiting further explanation. Again, he sighed. Talking about it was the last thing he wanted to do, but he was too emotionally worn out to protest. "Pete said my secret made him worry a lot, and I think he's mad at me for letting Chloe help me with the research part of freeing Lex. Lex knew my secret, and whether he would have used it against me or not, I was glad. I hate keeping it from him, Mom. It makes me feel like a liar, and I guess I am one. I hate lying, but I'm going to have to do it for the rest of my life, aren't I?"

Martha was saved from having to answer that question by Jonathan's arrival and the smell of Chinese carryout wafting through the house. Jonathan took one look at his wife and son sitting on the sofa and instantly knew that something was wrong. Clark was pale and his eyes were red from crying. Martha's right hand rested on the boy's back in a comforting gesture.

"Clark? Martha? What happened?"

"Later, Jon. We'll talk about all of this after dinner. Clark, when did you eat last?"

He shook his head and shrugged. "Maybe yesterday?"

"Well, you're going to at least have some chicken and rice. Come on, sweetie. Into the kitchen." Martha rose from the sofa, pulling Clark to his feet.

At the Kent family table, Clark poked suspiciously at a piece of General Tso's chicken. Jonathan could not help but laugh. "I'd suggest that you x- ray it, son, but I don't think your x-ray vision can actually tell if it's chicken or ... otherwise."

His father's gentle teasing brought a small, sheepish grin to Clark's face. "Otherwise?"

"If you poke it with your fork and it says, 'meow', then I'd be worried. Go on and eat it, son."

Clark looked slightly mutinous, but managed to get the piece of chicken onto his fork and into his mouth.

Jonathan chuckled. "I assure you, the only poison it contains is the MSG."

"Mmm. Chemicals." Martha took a bite of Clark's chicken from his plate, making a show of how much she was enjoying it.

"Mom, that worked when I was what, three?"

Martha sighed in mock-defeat. "Not even then. The tried and true 'airplane' was the only thing that ever worked, and that was because you got to see your father and I making fools of ourselves running around the kitchen making airplane noises. Even before you were speaking English well enough to communicate with us, you liked to see us act silly."

Clark smiled at the images the memory brought to mind, and set down his fork.

"No, you don't, mister! You're my son, and you haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon. It's now my duty as your mother to insist that you eat at least two more pieces before you're off the hook. Just enough to make me feel like I'm a good mother."

Hesitantly, Clark picked up his fork and dutifully stabbed another piece of chicken.

"Down the hatch, Clark. I know you don't feel hungry, but you need to eat something, all right?" Martha narrowed her eyes in mock-anger, but she was still smiling. "Don't think I won't do it. I will resort to the airplane if you push me."

A real smile, the first in a long while, broke out on Clark's face at the idea of his mother feeding him Chinese chicken while making airplane noises.

Jonathan put on his best 'serious' face and turned to his son. "She'll do it, son. Last winter when I had the flu, she threatened and followed through."

The smile turned to laughter at the thought of his father in such an undignified position, and he felt some of the tension and emotional pain recede. It wasn't gone, but somehow, spending time with his parents could always make things at least a little bit better.


	2. Chapter 2

After dinner, the family moved to the living room. Martha sent Clark upstairs to change into his pajamas. She had a feeling that he was going to end up sleeping on the sofa, and she wanted him to be comfortable. While he was upstairs, she filled Jonathan in on what had happened earlier that night.

"He told me he felt like everything was coming unglued. Those were his words. Before, there was always something or someone for him to lean on. He's always had Pete and Chloe to help him through his Lana problems, or Lana to help him through Pete problems. Lately, he's had Lex to talk to when no one else could help, but now he can't look at Lex without feeling as though he failed him. He said he was glad that Lex knew his secret, and now that's been taken away as well. Pete made some kind of comment about Clark's secret making him worry, Lana truly doesn't wish to see him, and she lives with Chloe, so he feels like she's off-limits to him too. He feels like his secret has made a liar of him, and that upsets him."

Jonathan shook his head sadly. "Not to mention that he was exposed to Kryptonite, beaten up, and electrocuted. Did you see him shaking?"

Martha bit her lip anxiously. "I wish we could take him to a doctor. I don't like it that he's been hurt like that and we can't have him checked out. Most parents would rush their son to the emergency room if he was poisoned, electrocuted, and beaten."

"We're not most parents, and Clark isn't most kids." Jonathan stated.

"I'm okay, Mom. I - I think it'll stop if we just wait."

Clark joined his parents, now wearing comfortable red sweatpants and a blue t-shirt.

"I hope so, sweetie. Here, sit down."

Martha made Clark comfortable on the sofa, again draping the afghan around his shoulders. She knew that his powers protected him against feeling cold, but she knew that the tiny tremors that coursed through her son's body were not a physical chill. Her brow creased in worry at the idea that the exposure to Kryptonite and the electrical voltage might still be affecting him.

Jonathan sat on the sofa with Clark, and Martha settled on the floor in front of them, her left arm resting on Jonathan's knee and her right hand free in case she needed to comfort her son.

"Clark," Jonathan began. "I know you're upset about everything that happened, and I know you're still not back to being yourself after this summer in Metropolis. We can't begin to understand how it feels to have your abilities - " He stopped and chuckled softly. "Well, I guess I can, a little bit, but that was only for a little while. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that you don't have to be brave or strong or pretend that things are okay when they aren't. Even if you can lift this house off its foundations and toss it around, you're still a teenager. You're our son, we're your parents, and we love you and want to protect you as much as we can. If you make mistakes, which you have and you will, we won't stop loving you. If your mistakes are big enough, you might find yourself with less free time and more chores, or a lack of driving privileges, but we won't stop loving you. Ever." He gave Clark's arm a gentle squeeze. "Even when I don't agree with you, I'm still proud of you."

His father's heartfelt words brought tears to Clark's eyes, but not the earlier tears of sadness, but this time of happiness and gratitude. He had always known that he was lucky to have Jonathan and Martha Kent as his parents, but right now he thought he must have the best parents in the world. Unable to trust his voice yet, Clark just nodded.

Martha smiled, squeezing her son's hand so tightly that if he had not been nearly invincible, it might have hurt. "Clark, baby, you saw some things that nobody your age should have to deal with. Those - those inmates who hurt you - no one, let alone someone as young as you, should have to suffer through being tortured like that. You saw Lex suffering as well, and Pete and Lana were just the icing on the cake. You're emotionally overloaded, and I think that being away from Smallville for a few days might help you get your balance back." She turned to her husband. "Did you get the cabin, Jon?"

He nodded. "How would you like to spend this coming weekend at a lakeside cabin in the woods in the middle of nowhere?"

Clark frowned uncertainly. "With you or by myself?"

"With us, of course. You and I can go fishing, we can take some long hikes, and most importantly, we can get away from everything for a little while. What do you think, Clark? No Lex, Pete, Lana, Kryptonite, or meteor freaks out to hurt you. Just me, you, your mother, and the wilderness."

Some of the shadows that had lurked in Clark's eyes lifted. "Really?"

Jonathan smiled. "Really. A three-day chance for some real relaxation."

In response, Clark let out a sigh of relief. "It sounds great. Better than great, actually." Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion washed over him, and he found that his eyes wanted very much to be closed.

"Clark?" Jonathan watched his son fighting a losing battle with sleep with concern.

"He's just tired, Jon."

Clark slowly opened his eyes. "I'm awake."

"But you should rest, baby. You don't have to go to school tomorrow. You've been through so much ... " Martha frowned as she saw another tremor course though her son's body. "Has that been happening ever since the Kryptonite and the electricity, and if so, why didn't you mention it?"

"I knew there wasn't anything you could do about it. It's not like you can take me to the emergency room. I don't think it's from the - the stuff that happened. I think it's because I can't relax."

"Have you been sleeping?" Martha inquired gently.

He shook his head. "Not much. Bad dreams."

Jonathan and Martha exchanged worried glances, but Martha felt a rush of determination. She sat down on the sofa with her husband and son, placed a pillow in her lap, and encouraged Clark to rest his head on the pillow. She instructed Jonathan to move the teenager's long legs up onto the sofa, and was glad that they had purchased the extra-long sofa five years ago. Their tall son fit, with extra room.

Clark protested feebly. "Mom! I'm too old for this, you don't have to - "

She cut him off. "Of course I don't have to, but I'm your mother and I love you. I want to. When you were little, we used to do this fairly often. You used to have some pretty bad dreams when you were small, but you never remembered them when you woke up. I always thought they must be about your journey here to Earth." She looked up at Jonathan. "Why don't you get some sleep? I'll stay down here with Clark tonight."

Jonathan shook his head. "Nope. I'm camping right here in this chair." He pointed to the recliner. "I want to be here for him as much as you do. If you need to get up, I'll take over."

Even in his half-asleep state, Clark smiled. His parents were actually squabbling over who got to stay up with him. Even though all of the emotional distress, he was sure that he had never felt more loved.

That night, Clark drifted off to sleep with his mother rubbing his back soothingly, chasing the tremors away with the sheer force of her love, while his father snored softly from the recliner.


	3. Chapter 3

The weekend was only two days away. Pete sighed as he loaded his backpack with the books he needed for his next class. It had been a strange week so far, with Clark unexplainably absent on Monday. He had been back in school on Tuesday and today, but had not said a single word to Pete other than the obligatory 'hey' when spoken to in the hallway. Clark was not at lunch, which Pete and Chloe both found strange. They took advantage of his absence to talk about him and why he was acting so strangely.

Chloe scrunched her eyebrows in a way that Pete had always found to be one of her most endearing habits. "Have you talked to him at all this week?"

He shook his head. "Not really. I saw him in the hall before third period, but he barely nodded at me, and that only after I made a point to speak to him. What is wrong with the guy?"

"Oh, I don't know, Pete. Could it have anything to do with the fact that the last, oh, three months or so have been pretty rough on him? I mean, I don't profess to understand the dark recesses of the brain of Clark Kent, but I'm thinking he might be depressed."

"Who's depressed?"

Lana set her tray down next to Chloe's and sat down. Chloe and Pete exchanged glances warily.

"Okay, so it's a big secret. Sorry to interrupt. I can sit somewhere else if I'm interrupting something."

Hurriedly, Chloe scooted Lana's tray away so that she would stay. "No, it's not a secret. Don't get up. I want you to sit here. In fact, I wish you'd sit with us more often."

Lana smiled. "Thanks. Okay, if it's not a secret, then who's depressed?"

"Clark." Pete said flatly. "You haven't seen him, have you?"

Lana was surprised, and for a moment, she thought guiltily back to Sunday night at the Talon, her welcoming party. She had seen Clark, all right. She had seen him and she had seen the fragile hope in his dark blue eyes. Then, she had deliberately turned her back on him. Of course, after Chloe had filled her in on the failed attempt to rescue Lex from the asylum, she had felt badly. She of all people knew how personally Clark took his failures, especially when he failed a friend in need.

Out loud, she managed to mumble, "No, I haven't seen much of Clark lately."

"No one has. He's not talking to me, he isn't coming to lunch, he was absent on Monday, and when I drove out to visit, his parents told me he was out in the barn, but he wasn't. I left his homework and books with his mom and looked around for him a little bit, but I couldn't find him."

Pete's shoulders slumped dejectedly. Clark had been his best friend since grade school. Why was he suddenly withdrawing?

Chloe gave Pete a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "Maybe when he gets back, he'll be better."

"Back? Where's he going?"

"My dad ran into his dad in town last night. The Kents are leaving for a mini-vacation, just the three of them."

Pete shook his head in confusion. "A vacation? I've known Clark since we were little kids, and in all that time, the Kents have gone on a vacation exactly once. His dad isn't the vacationing type."

"Well, they're taking one. Mrs. Kent was doing quite a bit of shopping last night, and she was buying things like flashlights, batteries, a first aid kit, and two life jackets. They must be going camping or something like that. I didn't get a chance to talk to her, but I waved on my way out and she waved back."

Chloe took one last bite of her sandwich and looked at her watch. "I need to get back to the Torch. If either of you makes contact with him, I want to know about it. My guess is that whatever is wrong with Clark, it's serious enough that his parents are getting away from Smallville to deal with it. I hope nobody's sick ... " She covered her mouth. "I'll check on the internet to see if maybe somebody died. I hate reading the obits."

After Chloe left, Pete was left alone with Lana. Neither of them were finished eating, but Pete found that he could not think of anything to say to her.

"Come on, Pete. I know you're mad at me."

"What? Why do you think I'm mad at you? I haven't even seen you since the Talon Sunday night."

She sighed. "You're mad at me because you and Clark are like conjoined twins with the way you're always together, always of the same mind about things."

Pete chuckled at the mental image of himself and Clark as conjoined twins. "Last I heard, not even Ripley's Believe It Or Not has ever heard of conjoined twins, one black, one white."

"It was a figure of speech, Pete. Come on, are you telling me he didn't mention what happened at the Talon?"

"The Talon?" Pete asked. "Sunday night?"

Impatienly, Lana tapped her foot. "Yes, Sunday night at the Talon."

"Clark wasn't there, Lana. He didn't come. Chloe and I were talking about that before you sat down."

Lana shook her head. "No, he was there. I saw him. We made eye contact, and - and then I turned away and walked off with some other people."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you walk off and turn your back on him? He probably wanted to talk to you, see how you're doing."

The green bean on Lana's fork slid free and fell to her plate. She set down her fork, suddenly disinterested in the food. "I turned away because I didn't want to talk to him, Pete."

The bluntness of her answer startled Pete. "Why not? It wasn't that long ago that you were willing to throw away your friendship with Chloe to be with him."

More sharply than she meant, Lana snapped, "Well, that was before my leg was broken in four places!"

Pete closed his eyes, thinking of how badly Clark would feel if he knew that Lana blamed him for her injury. "Please tell me you didn't say anything like that to him."

"I didn't ... only, I guess, at the hospital when he visited me, I told him that being around him was too dangerous, that I couldn't do it anymore."

"So, you basically gave him a restraining order to stay fifty feet away from you at all times?"

"My leg is broken, Pete. If he hadn't called me to bring food for Lex, this would not have happened. Whenever he's around, things happen!"

The idea of how much Clark would be hurt by the things Lana was saying made Pete feel slightly queasy. He had told Clark how keeping his secret worried him, Lana had told him to stay away from her, and God only knew how much of their friendship Lex could even remember. No wonder Clark was depressed.

Pete stood and gathered his trash onto his tray, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "It isn't Clark who attracts the weirdness that happens around here. Clark is the one who stops it, and one of these days, he's going to get himself killed trying to rescue you! He'd throw himself off of a cliff if he thought it would save you -- wait ... " Pete snapped his fingers. "I forgot. He already did that."

With that, he left Lana alone to finish her lunch, determined to be a better friend to Clark when he returned from vacation.

* * *

Lana sat alone, too shocked at the vehemence of Pete's words to think of eating another bite. Was it true? Was she the one who attracted danger? Did she have a sign across her back that read, 'somebody save me'? Clark seemed to always be present when she was in danger, but in retrospect, he was usually rescuing her at great personal risk. From everything she had heard from Pete and Chloe, Lex had not been insane. Clark had risked everything to help a friend, and when his everything was not enough, he had called Lana to bring food and stay with Lex. The only thing Clark was guilty of was trusting in her friendship. Lana had no doubt of how far Clark would go to help a friend. How far was Lana willing to go? 


	4. Chapter 4

"Clark!"

Hearing his mother call his name, Clark jumped slightly in surprise. He still had yet to finish packing, and his parents were already finished and had their bags loaded into the trunk of the car. He was having a hard time concentrating on his task. He could hear his mother running up the stairs, and when she appeared in the doorway, he still sat on his bed holding one sock and a blue t-shirt.

"Clark, for a boy gifted with superhuman speed, you're moving rather slowly this morning." Martha Kent took the sock from his hand and tossed it onto the bed. She then went to his dresser and took out six pairs of clean socks, tucking them neatly into his suitcase. Taking another look at Clark, she ruffled his hair affectionately. "You sit right there and I'll pack for you. You've got veto rights if I pick something terrible, okay?"

He smiled sheepishly at his mother. "Sorry I spaced out. I was kind of lost in thought."

"It's okay, sweetie. You've had a rough time of it lately. This trip is going to be fun for all of us, but one of mine and your father's ideas is for you to rest, relax, and let us take care of you for a change."

His mother's loving, gentle words brought a lump to his throat. He didn't know what was wrong with him lately, but it seemed like he was always on the verge of tears. He was less than enthusiastic about seeing his friends at school; the last week, he had barely spoken to Pete or Chloe, and had actually avoided them on purpose. Food didn't seem to taste good, even the old favorites his mother had been cooking to encourage him to eat more. Apart from the night that his parents had both stayed with him in the living room, he had slept poorly and what sleep he had was riddled with unpleasant dreams.

"Clark Kent, we really need to do something about your wardrobe! Do you have anything besides blue, white, and red t-shirts and flannels?"

He protested feebly, "Hey, I like blue, white, and red. Everything matches and it all goes with jeans."

"Well, you always look nice, so I suppose it doesn't really matter." Martha folded four t-shirts, five flannels, and a bright red fleece jacket into the suitcase along with the jeans and underwear that Clark had already packed. "There. Now, let's get going! Your father is waiting in the car, and I wouldn't put it past him to honk the horn if we don't get moving."

Still feeling as though he was thinking through a thick fog, Clark picked up his suitcase and allowed his mother to lead the way out to the car.

************************************

It was a four hour drive to the cabin, and not even half an hour into the car trip, Clark had stretched out as much as he could in the backseat and was sound asleep. Martha turned around to look at him, and smiled.

"He's asleep, Jon. The poor boy is exhausted. I don't think he's been sleeping well. I heard him get up for a glass of water twice last night."

Jonathan glanced at his son in the rearview mirror. "What took you two so long in the house?"

"He hadn't finished packing. He was just sitting there on his bed, staring at the wall. When I came in and started packing for him, he perked up a little bit, but not much." She paused, shaking her head sadly. "I hope this helps. I want our son to be happy again. I miss hearing him laugh, really laugh."

"Me too." Jonathan reached over to squeeze his wife's hand lovingly.

***************************************

Two hours into the trip, Jonathan stopped the car at a gas station. When Clark did not wake, he opened the back door and shook his son's shoulder gently. "Clark, wake up, son."

"Dad?" The teenager rubbed his bleary eyes. "Are we there?"

"No, but we're more than halfway. We're at a gas station, and I wondered if you wanted a drink or a bathroom break."

"Sounds good." Clark climbed out of the car and stretched. His nap had renewed him somewhat, though he was still slightly groggy with sleep. He followed his father into the gas station, selected a bottle of cola from the refrigerator, and gave it to Jonathan to hold while he made for the men's room. After a feat of acrobatics to avoid touching the walls, toilet, faucet, and door directly, he headed back to the car.

"Honestly, I don't know what's wrong with people sometimes!"

Clark actually smiled, knowing what his mother was about to say next.

"The things people do to public restrooms are disgusting! You know they don't treat their own bathrooms like that. Clark, you didn't touch anything, did you?"

His father's chuckle brought a faint grin to Clark's face. "Uh, Mom?

Invincible. Germs not an issue."

Martha laughed. "Humor me. I'm your mother."


	5. Chapter 5

The cabin was more of a small house than a cabin. There was one bedroom, a kitchen with a table setting for four, a bathroom with a shower, tub, toilet, and sink, and a cozily decorated living room with a couch that converted into a bed. The walls were a beautifully stained wood, and the ceilings were high, the exposed support beams adding to the rustic atmosphere of the cabin. There was no television, but a radio that was designed to look old-fashioned stood on the mantle of the fireplace. Outside the door and across the yard, a pile of wood waited for use, kept dry beneath a plastic tarp.

Clark set his stuff down on the couch, then carried his parents' bags to the bedroom. He went to the large window and watched a deer grazing in the back yard of the cabin. He could hear his parents in the kitchen, the clattering of pots and utensils as they took stock of what they had to work with for dinner. The deer looked up, as though it knew it was being watched, but did not run away. A few seconds later, it resumed grazing, assured that the human behind the glass was not an immediate threat.

"Son?"

Clark turned to face his father, pointing out the window at the deer. Jonathan Kent smiled. "You know, we have those in Smallville."

"I know. I just like watching them, seeing how close I can get before they bolt." He paused for a moment, shaking his head. "I just described my whole relationship with Lana, didn't I?"

Not wishing to pass judgement on Lana, Jonathan didn't say what he really wanted to say. Instead, he remembered his wife's advice, to think before speaking. He settled for rephrasing his original thoughts more kindly. "You haven't done anything wrong, Clark. You know that people always say that girls mature faster than boys?"

He nodded. "So?"

"Well, I think you're the exception to that rule. Especially when it comes to you and Lana. She doesn't know what she wants, Clark. That's okay, she's only sixteen. The problem is that you do know what you want, and that is to be with her, am I right?"

Clark nodded again.

"I don't think that it's necessarily you she runs away from. I think she's afraid of the steadiness you represent. If she dated you, there wouldn't be any of the high drama she got used to with Whitney. Granted, you do seem to attract a different kind of drama, but that's because of your abilities and your secret."

"Why can't I tell her, Dad? Why won't you and Mom let me tell her? If she just knew, I think she'd understand everything, maybe even forgive me for keeping it from her."

It caused Jonathan deep pain to have to deny his son the simple ability to be honest with those he cared about, but as a parent, his instinct was to protect his son with everything he had. That included keeping Clark's secret from those who might use it against him, and that meant that Lana Lang must not know.

Jonathan sighed. "Come into the living room, Clark. I'm going to need your mother to help explain our reasoning to you. Our intention was never to make you feel like a liar, please believe me."

The family settled in the living room, where Martha had already started a fire, and Clark listened to his parents' explanation.

"Finding you saved us, Clark. We were happily married, but we felt incomplete until we found you. The first time I heard you call me 'da', I know it took me days to come down from that high. The idea of anyone hurting you makes me so angry that I would do anything to protect you from harm."

Martha pulled her son close and kissed his forehead. "When you were shot with that Kryptonite bullet, I wanted to claw the eyes out of whoever could do such a thing to my baby. Seeing you hurt, physically or emotionally, hurts us as well. Our biggest fear has always been that someone would find out your secret and take you away from us. We would do anything to prevent that from happening. I think that Lana is a sweet young lady, but she isn't mature enough to handle a secret like yours. What if you told her and she was afraid? Would she use your secret as leverage the way she used your heart? Your father and I are unwilling to take a chance like that with you. We love you too much."

Clark felt a rush of love and gratitude wash through him. His parents were right, he knew that they were. Even if he disagreed, he could not doubt that their only motive was keeping him safe.

He leaned into his mother's shoulder, trying to hide the tears that had once again sprung to his eyes. "How can you love me this much after - after what I did to you? You lost the baby because of me! How can you even look at me without wondering what he or she would have been like, wondering how it would be to have a normal kid?" The tears flowed freely, and Clark dashed them away, embarrassed at his inability to stop them. Why was he always crying lately?

Helplessly, Martha looked to her husband. It had honestly never occurred to them that Clark felt so much guilt about the baby. The loss of the child was still a fresh grief for Martha, but never had she blamed Clark. The idea of her son so desperate for his biological father to stop hurting him and trying to take him away from the parents he loved that he would destroy the ship, one of the only links to his heritage, had been a much more real, urgent pain. Jonathan's gaze dropped to the floor, and she knew that her husband was once again regretting the words he had said to his son on that terrible day. Convinced that his father blamed him for what had happened, Clark had voluntarily exposed himself to the red kryptonite in an attempt to make the pain of this knowledge bearable.

Their son's mind had been in so many dark places lately. Pain, fear, betrayal, loss ... In their grief and struggle to get their lives back to a semblance of normal, they had never considered how losing a sibling would affect Clark. Depression had taken hold of their son before their very eyes, and it had only been the support of his friends that had been keeping him going. With that network of support interrupted, Clark had been adrift, assailed by emotions and feelings for which he had no outlet.

Tentatively, Jonathan reached out to his son, laying a gentle, fatherly hand on his back. "It wasn't your fault. You needed us and we weren't there for you the way we should have been. If you had felt like you could talk to us, you would have. We left you hanging, son."

Clark burst out, "I wanted to be a big brother -- to give piggy-back rides and take him or her to the 4-H fair. I wanted to, I wasn't jealous."

"No one would think such a thing of you, baby." Martha gently stroked his hair, glad beyond words that her precious son trusted her enough to let her comfort him. "And you would have been the best big brother in the world. I know because you're a wonderful son. We're lucky to have a caring, intelligent, handsome young man like you for our own. As far as your father and I are concerned, we're proud of you and the way you always try to do the right thing. I'm proud to be your mother, Clark."

Jonathan nodded, unshed tears in his eyes. "I'm proud to be your father. I'm proud of the sweet little boy you were and the bright young man you've become." He looked from his wife to his son. "This is exactly why we needed this weekend, exactly what I hoped would happen. We have a lot of talking to do as a family. Clark, I want you to continue to trust us, to open up to us, and we need to work on making ourselves more approachable for you."

Seated between his parents on the sofa, Clark felt an incredible warmth begin to melt the cold, icy loneliness that had taken root in his heart. His mind's eye saw his parents' trust and love as a light that began to illuminate the dark places created by doubt and fear within his mind.


	6. Chapter 6

Lana sat on her bed, her injured leg extended straight out in front of her. She was re-reading some of her old journal entries and going through boxes and boxes of pictures, some of which were hers, others that Chloe had given her to look through. Chloe's pictures showed her the dynamic that used to exist between Pete, Clark, and Chloe before she had become a part of their group. Chloe had a tendency to photo-document even the most mundane of gatherings, and she often wrote witty commentary on the backs of the photos. So far, she had found three pictures of Clark staring off into space, with the caption, "Clark and his Lana-gazing." Even though she was alone, she found herself blushing furiously. She had not known how long Clark had had a crush on her.

She had also discovered just how many of her journal entries contained something about Clark, several of them detailing various times that he had rescued her from danger. Tears hung in her eyelashes at the memory of the deep sadness in his eyes as she turned her back on him for the second time. Why did he even like her? What had she ever done for him? She was the one who attracted danger, Pete had been right. Clark showed up time and time again to stop it.

All of those rescues, and she could not think of a single thing she had ever done to help him. Had she ever even bothered to check up on him after he risked life and limb to save her? How many times had he been upset and she had done nothing helpful? How many times had he limped away to tend his hurts alone? Did his parents know how much danger their son had been in all because of Lana? She remembered standing with him after the explosion on the Kent farm that had precipitated his running away to Metropolis. He was the one having a crisis, and all she had managed to do was cry. How many times had she become angry with him undeservedly? He had made one request of her - to bring food for Lex, and even then, he had called for her help only when he was at the end of his own wits. It had been pure chance that things had turned out badly, not Clark's fault. Now she knew that, but did she have the strength to make amends? Lana sighed. She wasn't sure that she did.


	7. Chapter 7

Leaning back against a tree, Clark stretched out comfortably. He propped his fishing pole against one knee and glanced at his father. Jonathan Kent sat in almost exactly the same position as his son. Without intending to, Clark was unconsciously emulating his father. A sudden tug on his line ended the similarity abruptly.

"Dad! I think I caught one!"

Jonathan Kent quickly sat up straight. "You think? Son, look at that line! Either you've caught a whopper, or there's a scuba diver with a strange sense of humor down there tugging your line. Reel it in!"

It was, in fact, a whopper of a fish. Even with his super strength, it took Clark a good minute to bring the fish to shore. If he had simply pulled, the fish might have gotten away. It took a combination of pulling, waiting, and coaching from his father on when to pull and when to wait to drag their dinner to the lakeshore.

The fish was almost too large to fit into the cooler they had brought, but rather than carry it all the way back in their hands, Jonathan stuffed it in. The other fish they had caught had been too small to keep, and they had thrown them back. Clark had even managed, to his father's amusement, to catch the same puny carp twice. He could have sworn that the little fish had glared at Clark as he was freed for the second time.

"I'll clean it and gut it if you carry the cooler back. How's that?" Jonathan knew that carrying the cooler would be easy for Clark, and that was his intent. The Kents had meant it when they agreed that they would take care of Clark instead of the other way around on this vacation.

Clark grinned at his father. "Sounds good. Dad?"

"Yeah, son?"

"Thanks for today."

Jonathan grasped his son's shoulder in a gesture of affection. "You're welcome. It was my pleasure. We should do this whole father/son fishing trip thing more often. When was the last time we did this?"

Clark's brow furrowed in thought. "I think it was last summer. It was fun then, too. Until Pete and his dad showed up at your secret fishing spot and made enough noise to scare all of the fish away. Well, it was still fun, just different fun."

"If I remember correctly, you and Pete decided to swim instead. Something about a cannonball competition?"

Clark grinned. "Nobody makes a bigger cannonball splash than Pete!"

"I still don't know how Ross knew about the fishing spot. My dad told me he never told anybody about it." Jonathan scratched his head in remembered confusion.

"That's exactly what Pete's dad said. He thought you stole his spot."

"Well, he was obviously mistaken! Here, take the cooler. Don't bring it inside. You know your mother's rule about fish."

"Yeah, 'you catch it, you clean it, I'll cook it'. Not too bad of a deal,

especially since you volunteered to clean it."

Father and son made their way back to the cabin, laughing and talking. Martha heard their approach, and quickly wiped tears of happiness from her eyes at the sound of her son's laughter. From the sound of it, the afternoon of father/son fishing had been successful.

*********************************

Throughout the day, the Kents noticed vast improvements in Clark's mood and spirits. He had seemed happy and carefree. Seeing their son acting like himself again was all the reward they needed. After a delicious dinner of fresh fish, cornbread, and broccoli with cheese, the family played a competitive game of Pictionary, wherein it was discovered that none of them should give up on farming to become an artist. At one point Jonathan drew a cow that looked so much like a dog that Martha and Clark

had nearly laughed themselves sick. Martha had teased her husband that perhaps he should put a cow on a leash and walk it around town. Luckily, Jonathan was a good sport, and on a later turn, Martha drew a stick man who appeared to have been stabbed through.

"It's a paper boy! He's delivering newspapers, see? It's under his arm, not through his body, Jon!" Martha protested her husband's criticism of her 'art'. "Clark? It's a paper delivery boy, not a stabbing victim, right?"

Clark took the pad of paper and turned it to the side, squinting as though trying to decide. "Sorry, Mom. It does kind of look like he's been impaled, especially when you turn it so he's lying down."

With an injured sniff, Martha snatched the pad away, turning it to the side. She immediately dissolved into laughter. "You're right. So, since we're artistically challenged, how about a game of cards?"

They played several rounds of Crazy Eights, and finally decided to call it quits around midnight. The first night in the cabin, they had all been so worn out from the heavy discussion that they had slept like logs. This night, however pleasant the day had been, would be different.

******************************

Clark lay down on the pull-out sofa bed, snuggling into his blankets. Today had been the first time he had felt so happy and content for quite a while. He had enjoyed hiking and fishing with his father, as well as the family game night. As he drifted off to sleep, he resolved to do something to show his appreciation and love for his parents.

His dreams started out peacefully. He was swimming in the lake back in Smallville with Pete, Lana, and Chloe. The young people were splashing and laughing, and Lana's smile lit up Clark's world. Without warning, the sky split open and a crash of thunder signaled the beginning of a terrible storm.

Pete and Chloe struggled to get out of the water, but Lana was frozen in place, treading water. Her eyes were huge and filled with terror as lightning flashed and the sky darkened.

"Clark! Clark, help!"

He heard her cry and immediately began swimming toward her. At the moment he reached her, a bolt of lightning struck him, sending painful jolts of electricity throughout his body. The water exacerbated the power of the jolt, and Clark was powerless to move. He could not save Lana, he couldn't even save himself.

"Clark! Help us!" This time, it was Chloe's scream he heard. Pete was caught on some underwater obstruction, and could not surface.

The electricity continued to race through his body, even as he heard another familiar voice.

"Clark! You have to get me out of here. You've got to do something!" Lex had appeared inside the glow of the lightning, also caught in the painful onslaught of electricity.

Slowly, Clark reached out to Lex, and saw that Pete was still struggling. He reached out to Pete, and Lana began to sink. There was no way he would be able to save them all, he was going to have to choose.

The lightning struck again, and this time, a sickening green glow emanated from somewhere deep in the water. Clark felt the familiar simultaneous pain and nausea associated with the green kryptonite, and knew that he would be saving no one. He was going to die, and no one would be able to help him ...

"Clark!"

He heard his name called, this time not one of his friends, but his

father's voice.

"Clark! Wake up, son. You're having a nightmare, you're dreaming!"

He felt strong hands shaking his shoulders firmly but gently. "Clark! Look at me, open your eyes!"

Slowly, Clark began to wake up from his nightmare, realizing that he was not being electrocuted, that he was lying on a soft bed, and gentle, loving hands were rubbing his back comfortingly. He sat up quickly, looking around as if to make certain that this was no dream.

His mother immediately hugged him tightly, rocking him back and forth as he let out a shuddering sob. "Mama's here, baby. Don't cry, I won't let anything hurt you. It was only a dream, it can't hurt you, not while we're here."

"Mom? Dad?"

Jonathan spoke reassuringly. "We're here, son."

"I - I dreamed that I couldn't save them. Pete and Lana and Lex all needed me, but - but there was lightning and kryptonite, and - and it hurt. I couldn't save them." He hid his face in his hands, embarrassed to have broken down yet again. "I'm sorry, you can go back to bed. I didn't mean to wake you."

Martha shook her head. "We're not leaving you alone after a nightmare like that. Scoot over."

Still shaking from his dream, Clark did as his mother said. Martha Kent propped herself up on her elbow and softly stroked her son's hair. "Close your eyes and sleep. I'll be right here."

Jonathan crawled into bed next to his wife, his arm around her and his fingers just brushing his son's shoulder. Even in sleep, Jonathan Kent protected his family.


	8. Chapter 8

Jonathan and Martha Kent awakened before their son. Unwilling to disturb Clark, their eyes met in silence, communicating their love for each other and for their son without words. Without speaking, Martha knew that Jonathan had the same concerns that she did about Clark's nightmare. She found it disturbing that the source of Clark's distress had been his inability to save his friends, not that he was being slowly killed with kryptonite and electricity. That told her two things; one, her son put the needs of other above his own; two, her son saw himself as in some way less important than others. The former spoke to Clark's good character, the latter spoke to some deep-seated insecurity that she was determined to do her best to remove, no matter how long it took.

After about an hour of watching their son sleep, Martha decided that it was time to get up and prepare some breakfast. When she pulled slowly away, Clark unconsciously sought the missing warmth in his sleep. He buried his head in his father's shoulder and with a soft sigh, fell into a restful sleep once again. Jonathan seemed surprised, but did not move to get up. He flashed Martha a grin that plainly said that he was enjoying this closeness with his son, but knew that the teenager would be embarrassed when he wakened. Leaving her two men in the living room, Martha headed for the kitchen, where she began cooking Clark's favorite breakfast -- pancakes with butter and syrup, scrambled eggs, and crispy bacon.

The smell of sizzling bacon brought Clark slowly to wakefulness. At first, he hovered between sleep and awake, aware of feeling warm, safe, and so comfortable that moving seemed impossible. After remaining in that blissful state for several minutes, he finally opened his eyes. He rolled over onto his back and realized that he had been curled against his father like a small child. The hazy fog of sleep in his mind dissipated, and he remembered last night - the dream, the fear, and his parents' comforting presence.

Jonathan Kent ruffled Clark's hair affectionately. "All right, son?"

Clark nodded, blushing with embarrassment at how the dream had reduced him to a frightened child.

"Don't be embarrassed, Clark. You went through a very traumatic experience trying to save Lex. The kryptonite and the electrocution, and the beating you took must have been terrifying. After something like that, the nightmares are almost to be expected. Your mother and I are glad that we could be there for you, glad that our presence seemed to help you rest."

"You always help me. You and Mom always make things better."

At his son's words, Jonathan felt his heart soar. He couldn't wait to tell Martha what Clark had said. After all of their worries that they simply lacked the strength to help their son deal with the things he had to deal with, here was the confirmation that they had needed. They were helping. Maybe they couldn't fight the meteor freaks like Clark did, couldn't lift cars and houses, see through walls, or burn through solid steel with their eyes, but they still had the power to make things better for their son.

Jonathan hugged his son tightly. "So do you, Clark. You make things better for us."

***********************************

While Clark was showering and getting dressed for breakfast, Jonathan toldMartha what Clark had said. As he had known that she would, she began to cry. Tears of joy slid down her cheeks.

"I was so worried, Jon. All I could think about was that we had somehow failed him, that there was nothing we could do, no way we could help him ..."

"You help me every day just by being there."

Jonathan and Martha turned around in surprise to see Clark standing in the doorway of the kitchen fully dressed with the exception of his sock-clad feet. His hair was still damp and touseled from his shower, and Martha was reminded once again of the messy-haired toddler he had been.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but - well, I superspeeded my shower because the bacon and pancakes smelled so good." He smiled sheepishly. "Mom, don't worry like that, you don't have to. You both make everything better. I know I can trust you to always do what you think is best for me, even when I don't like it. You'd never - never have me committed and hire somebody to zap my memory away." At the memory of what Lionel had done to his own son, Clark was unable to suppress a shiver. "What you did, taking me away for this weekend ... thank you. I - I felt like I was going to lose it there for awhile. I felt like everything was coming unglued, like pieces of me were being pulled in different directions so hard it was pulling me apart."

Jonathan raised a questioning eyebrow. "Do you still feel that way?" He laid a hand on Clark's shoulder, looking his son in the eyes. "If you do, that's all right. You can be honest with us, you know that."

Clark shook his head. "I still feel awful about what happened to Lex, and about Lana. I really wish the baby had lived, and I'd give anything to be able to take back running away to Metropolis, but I know you never gave up on me. This is going to sound weird, but - but you guys are like my Crazy Glue. No matter how broken or shattered I get, there isn't anything you can't eventually piece back together and make it stick."

Martha met Jonathan's eyes and saw that they were filled with tears like her own. She put down the spatula she had been using to turn the pancakes and took her son and her husband both into her arms, squeezing them tightly. The Kent family stood in the kitchen of the cabin for almost a full minute, holding each other close. The bond of family was strong, intact, and had been the thing that saved Clark from the loneliness and fear that had nearly taken him over.

The smell of the bacon beginning to burn was the only thing that made Martha let go. Clark's appetite had been so small recently that the last thing she wanted to do was burn the first food he was excited about in days. She turned off the burner and began preparing a plate for her son. "How do you feel now, Clark?"

He looked from his mother to his father and smiled. "Safe. I feel safe."


	9. Chapter 9

Epilogue

****************************

When the Kents' car rolled into the driveway just before dinnertime, Pete was waiting. He had been passing the last hour by shooting baskets by himself, which he noted was significantly less fun than shooting baskets with Clark. He had worried briefly that being there when they arrived might appear strange, but he had spent the weekend worrying and thinking about his best friend. If Clark didn't want to talk to him, he would go, but he wanted Clark and his parents to see that making things right was a priority for him.

Clark took his time getting out of the car, his eyes moving from Pete to his parents. The Kents stood protectively behind their son, and although Clark did appear more relaxed and stable than he had the last time Pete had talked to him, the way his parents watched him told Pete that there had been and might still be a legitimate reason for their seemingly excessive concern.

Taking a deep breath, Pete pasted a grin onto his face and approached the family. "Hey, Clark. I heard you were coming back today, and I wanted to be here to make sure everything's okay. You've been a hard man to catch last week at school."

Relief flooded through Pete when the Kents smiled at him, just as friendly as they had ever been.

"That's very nice of you, Pete. We haven't seen much of you lately." Martha gave Clark a small nudge forward. "You boys go ahead and catch up with each other. Jonathan and I will see about some dinner. Clark, is pizza good?"

Clark nodded. "Pizza sounds great. How about it, Pete? You want to stay for dinner?"

Reassured that his friend was still interested in remaining his friend, Pete agreed with a smile. "Since when do I need to be asked if I want to have dinner at the Kent farm?"

Jonathan took Clark's suitcase. "You and Pete can entertain yourselves until the pizza gets here. You can unpack later."

After Jonathan and Martha went into the house, Clark and Pete stood awkwardly for about thirty seconds, and then both started talking at the same time. After two false starts, Clark finally convinced Pete to go first.

"Man, I don't even know what to say except that I'm sorry. I didn't know about Lana dissing you at the party. I didn't even know you were there. Why didn't you say something?"

Clark sighed heavily. "I should have. I didn't mean to ignore you and Chloe, but I just didn't feel like talking or eating or - or anything, really. I'm not trying to excuse what I did, I'm just explaining it."

"You don't have to. I can't believe I blew up at you like I did. I'm glad you told me your secret, and if keeping it is hard, it's only because it gets frustrating to see Lana hurting you over and over again when I know exactly why you're acting the way you are. Don't you ever regret telling me, Clark."

"I don't regret it. I know I can trust you, Pete. After this weekend, I think everything's going to be okay."

"What did you guys do? Did you have fun?"

Clark laughed. "Well, we went fishing, hiking, played games ... those parts were fun. Other than that, I guess the most important thing I figured out is that my parents deserve an award for raising me and staying sane."

Sympathetically, Pete thumped his best friend on the back. "Rough time?"

"Yeah. The whole thing with Lex and the - the electrocution and the kryptonite gave me some killer nightmares."

Pete passed the basketball he had been holding to Clark. "You want to talk about it?"

Looking around to make sure no one but Pete was there to see him, Clark sprang into the air at superspeed, dunking the ball. He hung on the rim for a moment before letting go and passing the ball to Pete. "Maybe later. For now, all I'm saying is that my parents are awesome."

Pete shot a flawless basket from the three-point line and tossed the ball back to Clark. "Three points for me, one for you. Too bad super-aim isn't one of your abilities. When it comes to basketball, you're all flash and no substance, my friend."

Clark grinned. "Is it weird that I feel the most normal around the one guy who knows I'm not?"

"I've been razzing you since second grade. I'm not going to quit just because it turns out you could have been kicking my butt all that time."

"So, are we cool?"

"You know it."

"Thanks."

Hesitating for a moment, Clark finally managed to ask the question he wasn't sure he wanted an answer to. "Have you seen Lana?"

Pete nodded.

"And?"

"And she's still pretty mixed up about everything. You probably shouldn't try to talk to her."

Clark sighed heavily. "That bad?"

"Well, I think Chloe might have been exaggerating when she used the words 'harbinger of the apocalypse' to describe how Lana feels about you right now. You know how Chloe likes to exaggerate sometimes."

Wincing slightly, Clark shook his head. "Well, if she wants me to stay away, then I will. Only, this time I won't stay away from you and Chloe too. I, Clark Kent, promise to be a better friend."

Pete laughed. Clark had definitely benefited from the weekend trip. Last week, he would never have been able to adopt a sense of humor about the Lana situation. "Same here. Man, that must have been some weekend you had. Last week, me and Chloe were worried you were seriously depressed."

"I was. I'm telling you, Pete. My parents are awesome."


End file.
